


Wings Over Me

by blackchaps



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Nazis, Past Rape, Prison, Schmoop, Violence, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:38:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beta: Someone who was totally suckered into it and should've known better after the werewolf thing and did a great job, 'natch.<br/>Disclaimer: Oz belongs to Tom Fontana, bless his kinky heart.<br/>Summary: Yard time forces a change in Toby's life.<br/>Warnings: Oz, baby, watch your back. Also? Might be schmoopy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings Over Me

********

"Are you shitting us?"

Keller‘s voice is loud enough to earn him a classic McManus‘ stare down, but Toby interrupts it by fainting.

He dreams of blue, blue skies; the kind out West, where the sky is big enough to crush a man. The blue goes on forever, encouraging him to lie down in the grass and learn how small and insignificant he really is.

"Toby?"

Jerking, his first instinct is to run, but Keller wraps him up tight. "Toby?"

"Yeah," Toby whispers, confused. "Outside?"

"Not until tomorrow, dumbass." Keller yanks him to his feet. Guards mutter about wimps and losers, McManus cancels the call for a gurney, and Toby needs to lie down.

"You okay?" Keller whispers in Toby's ear, soft enough that no one can hear the tenderness.

Toby finds a nod. "Get me to my cot?"

Keller smiles, and they go into their pod, hooked close and for once, not a single hack yells at them. Toby sits down hard on Keller's bunk, putting his hand on his chest to make sure he's breathing. Keller plunks down practically on top of him. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know." Toby rubs his face hard, visions of blue clogging up his brain. "Tell me again what McManus said?"

"Starting tomorrow, we get yard time, an hour a day, unless you fuck up." Keller wraps his arm around him and squeezes. "O'Reily will sell a shit load of tits."

That's very true, but the prospect of actually seeing the sky makes Toby shiver. "I'll believe it when we get out there."

"Yeah, they might be fucking with us." Keller turns Toby's face so that they're eye to eye. "You look stoned."

"Not today." Toby tucks his face into Keller's neck. "Maybe it'll rain," he says very softly. Keller shrugs, keeping him close, and Toby shuts his eyes.

*********

Any closer and Toby would've been up Keller's ass, but it's outside and sky, and he trembles. "Jesus."

"Hey, it's almost sunny." Keller turns and kisses him hard. "Later." He struts away, and Toby nearly bolts after him, but the sky is blue. Very blue, and pressing him down to the earth. He puts his back to the wall and gives in to it.

He dreams of blue skies, looking out from an airplane with his heart hurting. Clouds stream by and he gasps from the ache.

"Pretty little prag."

High. So high, and he puts his hand on the tiny window.

"Block the view. Keller's over there."

So high.

"What the fuck?"

Toby slides down the wall to the ground, protecting his head and groaning softly from what had just been taken away.

"Get him to his damn pod!"

Someone jerks him up, and he tries to walk, relieved when he's helped up to his cot. He hears the lock click, and he hides his face in the crook of his elbow.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Beecher?"

"Don't know," he whispers. "No more sky. No more sky."

*********

"It's raining today," O'Reily says as he cruises by their table at lunch. "No yard time."

"Fuck!" Keller hefts his biscuit, glaring at a hack.

Toby takes it from him and puts it down. No yard time is fine with him. He shudders, remembering, and then firmly pushes it from his mind. He's had plenty of practice doing that with memories that he hates.

Keller grumbles, "Kill those fucking Nazis if they touch you again."

"Whatever," Toby says. He calmly drinks his milk and doesn't worry about it. "I'm due in the infirmary after this. McManus thinks I'm sick or something."

Keller snorts but says nothing. The conversation flows around them as people bitch about the lack of yard time, the reasons for yard time, and who exactly they plan to kill at the next yard time.

The rumor is that some new law has been passed making yard time mandatory for all prisons. Toby can't believe that shit. It's more likely that someone did a cost analysis and discovered that yard time is cheaper. Money talks. No one gives a shit if prisoners are happy or well-adjusted. The thought is laughable.

It's raining. Toby can almost smell it, and his shoulders begin to ache. Not his wrists, or his legs, but his shoulders, and he frowns. "Maybe I am sick."

*********

"So tell me about your phobia," Sister Pete says, looking concerned.

Toby rolls his eyes and sits in the chair provided. He'd been escorted here right after a fairly invasive physical that yielded nothing. "Phobia?"

"Don't play games, Tobias. If you have agoraphobia, we need to consider medication." She pulls her glasses completely off, projecting warmth and caring, and he knows it isn't an act.

"I don't think I have a phobia." He carefully controls his shiver at the thought of going outside. "The yard is dangerous. Everyone knows that." He scowls because she'd expect it. "You know they'll be after me."

"They already were," she says in a soft voice. "Are you okay? You keep rubbing your shoulder."

"Aches today." He makes a conscious effort to stop. "Probably early arthritis from all the beatings and breakings."

"Don't joke about that." Sister Pete comes around to him, leans against the front of her desk, and sighs. "Be safe out there, Tobias."

Toby shrugs, taking a moment to rub the other shoulder. "Chris has my back." He eases up to his feet. "I have about an hour before work. You mind if I go to the library and get a book?"

"Go ahead." She waves towards the door. "But one more problem out in the yard, and McManus might take away your privileges."

Fear rips through him, and he's uncertain if he's more scared of going outside or remaining inside. "I'll behave." He hurries to the library and finds a quiet place to let his hands shake.

*********

He dreams of a cliff, water surging below, and he feels the air pushing at him. Daring him. Taunting him. Waves splash, and he stands on the edge, poised, unafraid. He spreads his arms, the sun beats down upon him, and--

"Motherfuck!"

Toby lies in a heap, not understanding where he is or what he's done.

"Toby!" Keller turns him over gently. "You're losing it, ain't ya?"

"I think so," Toby says. "That hurt." He doesn't try to get up.

"You jumped off the top bunk. It sure as fuck is gonna hurt." Keller helps him sit and then rolls him into the bottom bunk. "Your nose is bleeding. Here."

Taking the shirt, Toby presses it into his face and gets on his stomach. His back hurts like hell. "It's beautiful," he whispers.

Hacks pound in the door, and Toby stares in confusion as they shove Keller against the glass.

"You okay, Beecher?" Murphy shines his flashlight in Toby's face. "How bad did he cut you?"

Keller starts yelling, fighting, and they drag him away. Toby manages to sit up, blood all over the damn place. "Rolled out of bed. Hit my face." He can see the disbelief. "Murphy, I fell."

Murphy peels the shirt away and winces. "You're going to need some ice. Come on, and there ain't no fucking way McManus is gonna believe that dumbass story."

Staggering, hurting, Toby follows obediently. Neither he nor Keller are surprised when they're given ten days in the hole for fighting.

*********

Pain is part of Toby's life in Oz, and he's grown to accept that shitty fact, but usually they gave him something for it. Or he self-medicates, but right now, naked, shivering, and feeling as if bones are being torn from his back, Toby can only sob.

No one gives a shit.

He paces, whimpers, and crouches in the corner, over and over again. He eats every scrap of food given to him, and it isn't enough to keep his stomach from complaining. Trying to count the days by the meals delivered proves fruitless. He can't remember how many, and the pain drives him to pacing again. If he sleeps, he doesn't remember, and he's shocked when the door pulls open.

"I thought you were clean," McManus says in that patronizing way of his, and Toby looks past him for food. He's so hungry, and tired, and hurting. McManus puts up a hand. "You have five more days, but I want a piss test."

"I'm not high!" Toby screams, shaking and clutching his elbows. God, he wishes he was.

"Right." McManus steps two healthy steps back. "Which guard did you pay off?"

Toby sinks down to the floor, wraps his arms around his knees. "Not high. I hurt." He doesn't bother to try to sound convincing. "I'm hungry!" he pleads, knowing that no one will listen, or care. "So hungry."

Pissing is impossible, and in the end, they give him clothes and drag him to the infirmary. He tries to walk, but he falls twice, and they get tired of waiting. Dr. Nathan frowns at him, and he shivers, wanting to explain.

"They didn't feed me. I'm hungry." He wants to sound angry, but he isn't even sure she hears him. She takes blood, and he looks her right in the eyes. "Food?"

She nods, and he eats everything the orderly brings him, and then steals food from the guy next to him.

McManus finally shows up, and he doesn't waste any time. "You're clean."

"I did tell you that." Toby glares at him. "I'm sick."

Nathan comes up behind them. "His white blood count is elevated, and he's running a slight temp. I'd like to keep him overnight."

After he rolls his eyes, he sighs, and Toby is reminded that McManus is a dick. "He's done. Take him to his pod in the morning."

Toby slumps in relief, and as they walk away together, whispering, he snatches another tray of food. He eats as fast as possible, and then crawls under the sheet to sleep.

He dreams of caterpillars, munching leaf after leaf as they inch along in their quest for flight.

********

"Yard time! Yard time! Move it!"

Toby shuffles into line behind Keller, wishing for a riot, any excuse to stay away from the open sky. Even the thought makes his mouth go dry. Through several doors, and one last push, and there it is. He thinks that it's been waiting for him. It's not panic that grabs him by the throat. It's something else that he doesn't recognize, and he tears away from the crowd, running towards the fence. His heart pumps in his throat, and he gulps for air as he runs faster than he ever has before in his life.

He hears nothing, sees only the gray sky, and feels his back shriek as he leaps into the air.

Gravity is such a bitch.

********

He dreams of clouds below and above him, and he spins in circles like a character on a child's mobile. Around and around he goes, never touching the ground, and never quite seeing the sky.

"Toby, you jump again, and I'm kicking your ass for real!" Keller spits the words out, grabbing him and pulling him down. They crash together on the bottom bunk, and Toby winces as his shoulder bumps the glass wall. Keller kisses him roughly. "Still sore?"

"Always." Toby gave up on painkillers two days earlier. "Not so rough, okay?"

Keller smiles and gentles his hands down Toby's body. "You're nothing but bones. The doc said you weren't sick?"

"She doesn't know what the fuck is going on with me." Toby curls into him. "Rub my back?"

"Yeah." Keller's hands ghost over him, and Toby starts pressing into the touches. Keller dips his face close, and Toby kisses him. They move, touch, and grind but softly, almost as if Toby can break. Toby wonders if he will again as he shifts enough to take Keller's dick inside. Keller groans and curls over, and Toby clutches the posts as he's fucked and sucked at the same time.

Everything he is roars out of him, leaving him stupid with pleasure, and he drifts off, thinking of bones.

He dreams of the breaking of his arms and legs, but this time, his arms flutter around his body. Flutter and flutter as he lies pinned to the earth.

********

McManus stares at him as if he's a bug, or some sort of insect that isn't appreciated in the house. Toby shifts his feet, tries to straighten his back, and sighs loud enough to be obnoxious.

"Wear your shirt," McManus says with a definite growl in his voice.

Toby shakes his head. "It makes me itch, and it's not required. Hell, half the men in this damn place go around mostly naked!"

"You went outside in thirty degree temperature yesterday without a shirt." McManus narrows his eyes. "Dr. Nathan swears there's nothing wrong with you but a virus."

"I heard. A virus. I'll get over it." Toby nods, feeling the push on his shoulders. "Hey, at least I have pants on." He smiles, trying for cocky. "We done? I'm hungry."

"Get out." McManus stands as Toby meanders toward the door. "And wear a fucking shirt!" he yells after him, but the words lack force. Toby goes to work, pouring over file after file and getting more work done than he has in a long time.

Sister Pete finally moves to stand over him. "You aren't squinting. You always squint."

He tilts his head and blinks. "I can see fine." He doesn't understand it, but he can see, extremely well, and even the small print is very clear. "Maybe you're a saint, and I have been healed by the power of your dislike for paper work!"

Her eyes go wide, and she opens her mouth, shuts it, and then crinkles her brow. "Very funny. Head back to Em City. It's getting late."

"Yes, ma'am." He sketches a salute, notices her wince at his naked chest, and turns the computer off before heading to dinner. He's starving now, and he hurries, cursing once when he bumps into one of the Irish, who immediately pushes him. The touch burns against his bare skin, and his back aches, but eating is more important than fighting. 

Keller has a spot for them, and Toby begins eating before he sits completely down. Six people pass him food they hate, and he eats everything in sight. They stare and laugh, and he doesn't care. He rotates his shoulders, trying to loosen them up, and Keller whispers to him, "O'Reily says the Nazis are making noise about taking you down."

"Morons." Toby keeps hoping someone will kill them all, but it hasn't happened yet. They kick up a fuss regularly, but with Vern in Unit B, no one takes them seriously. As if thought conjures him, the asshole saunters over to stand at the end of the table. No one looks at him.

"Your prag needs a shirt, Keller," Vern says. "Or is he looking for a real man to fuck him?"

A twitch skipped across Toby's shoulders, abruptly flaring. Mouth agape, he twists to look over his shoulder, and he wouldn't have been surprised to see actual flames on his back. "Hurts."

Hill gasps; Rebadow stares, and Vern pales.

Pain bleeds into intense euphoria, and Toby smiles, feeling ten feet tall. "Is that shit I see between your teeth, Vern?"

Laughter breaks the silence, and Keller meets the crazed lunge with full force. Toby glides to the table top and spreads his arms. Power surges through him, and he jumps.

*******

Three times, he hits the glass before Keller grabs him close, squeezing him. "Stop, you crazy fucker!"

"I hate this." Toby shuts his eyes, trying to picture blue skies. Energy runs out of him, and his stomach clenches with hunger. He sags in Keller's arms, not fighting when he's put on the lower bunk. His muscles begin to shake, and he whimpers softly with pain. "Does it look bad?"

Keller smoothes Toby's hair back and smiles. "They're fucking beautiful."

Toby doesn't understand, as all he'd seen was lines, etched into his back, branded like his ass. He pants a little, still feeling the heat. "Keller, you think I'm dying?"

Silence. Keller says nothing, and Toby has to open his eyes. See him. Keller's eyes are shut, and his head is bowed. Toby reaches and puts his palm on Keller's cheek.

"Chris."

"Can I touch them?" Chris's eyes open, and in an instant, Toby falls into the blue.

He dreams of fields, grain waving into wind-strewn patterns. Rabbits stand on their hind legs and twitch their noses, and he's hungry.

"Touch me." Toby shoves his pants down, sighing with relief when the fabric is off his ass. Faces press into the glass around them, and he stretches out face down on the bunk. "Show me with your hands."

Heat traces around, across, and down, ending right below his ass, and he can't picture it. "What is it, Chris?" he asks. Pain soaks his back again, and he gasps from it.

Keller pulls his hands back. "Wings. Branded into your skin. The tips are on your ass." His voice is soft, hushed, as if he's in church, and Toby shivers.

"Beecher! Put some fucking clothes on!" Lopresti shouts, holding the pod door open.

Toby curls, feeling the loss as Keller gets up. Keller growls, "He's hurting!"

"Stupid fucker should've known it would hurt!" Lopresti is joined by three other hacks, and Toby searches for his pants. The skin protests when he slides them on, but he grits his teeth and buttons them. They grab him by the arms and take him, and Keller pounds on the window. Toby expects to see McManus, but they lead him to the hospital.

Dr. Nathan's face shows her horror. "Toby," she whispers.

He would protest that he didn’t do it, at least not consciously, but he knows she won't believe him. The wings – he tries to see them – are burning, and he spread his hands. "I can't explain it."

Her hands are gentle, and he swallows the pill she gives him gratefully. "What's the pain like?"

"The lines burn. My back feels like it was stomped, and my shoulders ache." Toby sees the other patients, guards, staring. "Are they making a big birdcage for me? One with fresh paper?"

Nathan shakes her head. "Why did you let them do this to you?"

He sighs, giving up. "It'll heal. My ass did." He wants to rip his pants off. "Can I go back to my pod?"

"There's nothing I can do at this point." Her voice is sad. "Toby, no more brandings. Now I know why you've been fighting infection."

There's nothing else to say, and he strips his pants off the instant they shove him in his pod. Keller is still there, and Toby laces their fingers together.

"Fuckers," Keller says, flipping them off, and Toby crawls up on his bunk before the pain pill makes it impossible. Somehow, he keeps Keller's hand with him, and Keller stands by the bunk.

"Don't let go," Toby says, closing his eyes.

"Don't fly away," Chris whispers.

********

Lockdown lasts three days, and Toby sleeps every minute that he's not eating. Keller bribes the guard for extra food, and Toby is ashamed that he sucks Keller off for the protein in his come.

When the door pops open, Toby runs to breakfast, and he would've spent time in the hole, but Keller follows him with his pants. O'Reily laughs his ass off, and Toby strives to fill his aching belly.

"You saw it. Those wings burned their way out of him!" Hill keeps staring at him.

Rebadow nods. "God gifted them, and Toby better use them wisely."

The words send a frisson of heat lancing up Toby's back, and he looks up, finding the sky through the roof. "Not like I can fly," he mutters, but Keller's hand clutches Toby's thigh, and they scoot a little closer.

He dreams of strong winds, carrying him along and keeping him up where it's safe. Safe.

********

Five days of rain, and Toby goes to the gym again and again going to stare through the roof. Keller sticks close, finding him extra food and holding him when the pain allows it. There are no scabs to fall off, and he stops wearing boxers. It's one less layer of cloth against his skin. He sleeps naked, Keller's fingers tracing his wings.

"You with me, Beech?"

Toby stretches for the ceiling, feeling the bite. "It's worse today. Hurts like hell."

Keller motions to O'Reily, and a swift exchange gives Toby a pill to swallow. The day turns hazy and lazy, and he spends the night in Keller's arms. Fingers and tongue keep him grounded, but he reaches for the sky in his desperate need.

"Chris!"

"Ready to fly?" Keller growls, shoving into him harder than ever. Toby breaks apart in Chris' arms, toes curled so tight. Keller spurts all over Toby's back, whispering words of ownership that Toby's heard a thousand times before, but this time, oh, this time, he suddenly believes them.

"I won't leave you," he says so softly, but they both know that it means nothing. His eyes burn from unshed tears, and he kisses him breathless. "I won't want to leave you."

"I believe that," Keller mutters, and finally they rest.

********

"Watch your back," O'Reily whispers to Keller, right as they're herded out the last door to the yard. Toby hears it clearly, but for the moment he's more worried about his baggy sweatpants. If they fall off, his skin will thank him, and he'll end up in the hole again.

"Damn it," Toby mumbles, stopping in the shadow of the building to fiddle with the tie. The sunlight catches his eye, whispering to him of warmth and thermals. Smiling, he stretches his hands and wallows in the golden rays.

It's the first time that he's felt no fear at going outside, only a sense of peace.

"Get him."

Keller shouts a warning, fighting two Nazis at once, and Toby is tackled to the ground. Pain explodes the length of his body, but strength drives him up. Nazis fall underneath his feet, and he roars in his agony, spreading his arms wide.

"Motherfuck!"

"Holy shit!"

In slow motion, Keller runs to him. "Go, Toby, go! Straight up!"

The words stretch out over the air, then there's a snap, a shove, and his gaze goes up. Only up, and he can't hear or think.

He dreams of falling, falling fast, swooping down, down, down, until all he can see is the brown earth. The wind catches him and gentles him to a landing. His wingtips brush the ground, and he waits.

"Go! Go! Go!"

He reaches for sky, again and again, seeing the chaos below him as men fight, scream, and gunfire rips air.

His life whirls around him, pain and strength running into agony and glory. He knows, he knows, what he's doing because the knowledge is in his bones and muscles. It hurts. It hurts, and he screams a song of pain that slowly melts into sweet, sweet melody of pleasure.

The sky belongs to him now, or he belongs to it, and he's gone. So gone.

********

"Mail call! Keller! Get your fucking mail!"

The box flies through the air, but Keller catches it easily. The box is small, fits into his palm, and he sits down at a table to open it. No letter. No card. "What the fuck?"

A tiny white feather catches on his breath and floats down into his palm.

O'Reily stares at him for a long minute. "Never happened, they say. Couldn't happen. Helicopter got him."

Keller rubs his aching shoulder.

He dreams of a nest, far above the ground, tucked into huge, leafy branches. Straining for it, he jumps for the sky.

********  
the end


End file.
